Catalystic Reaction
by Pantaliamon
Summary: Faye's whole life falls apart after the ultimate rejection and she begins to question everything that is known to her except her one true love: dance.
1. Default Chapter

The whiteness of her ceiling woke her up.  
Her eyes flew open in the dark but she could see everything perfectly. The crack in the ceiling taunted her. She turned her head and saw the dresser, turned it the other way and saw Charlie sleeping next to her. So what was wrong?  
The color of a ceiling never woke anyone up.  
She was going crazy. She could feel the small cells in her brain deteriorating as she wasted good sleeping time staring at the ceiling. Was there something there that had invaded her dreams? Was she even dreaming? Scientists said that you had around 200 dreams a night but could rarely remember them. Faye seriously thought that she was insane and couldn't dream. In all her life, she'd never dreamt, which may have been weird but she'd had a very normal life. Not like Charlie, who had seven siblings and three-thousand garden gnomes and a crazy father and a temperamental mother.  
Faye had grown up in a respectable suburban neighborhood. Her mother was a witch, her father a wizard. She had an older sister who ended up working for the Ministry of Magic. Nothing terribly interesting, unless you count Hogwarts interesting. But every witch child went to Hogwarts. And then there was her dancing.  
Dance was the most interesting thing Faye ever did. She started dancing at the age of four and kept dancing. After moving in with Charlie, she saved up enough money to start her own dance company, which was flourishing beautifully.  
Why am I giving it all up? She asked herself this question over and over. Because she was giving it all up, in a sense.  
A few months ago, she had gone to America to visit a friend and found out that there were auditions for Julliard. So she auditioned and was now anxiously waiting for the results. Charlie knew, of course. He wasn't happy but he wasn't unhappy. Faye had the distinct feeling that he was jealous or even afraid.  
She silently climbed out of bed but the bed springs squeaked loudly. She winced as she slid her slip over her naked body and walked to the kitchen to make herself some hot cocoa. That's what she needed to get to sleep. She glanced at the clock. It was 2:07 in the morning. She sighed. What had woken her up? The kettle whistled and she hurried to get it off the stove so she wouldn't wake Charlie up. She glanced out of the sliding glass door that led to the patio of their flat. Everything was very dark. "Jesus," she muttered. Sorry, Jesus.  
She sank into the couch and flicked on the TV. The same thing again. A religion channel, late night talkshows, reruns of old television shows. She flicked to a channel where an old romance film was playing. She recognized it immediately, the famous scene from Casablanca. She watched as the woman climbed on the plane and left her true love behind. How could someone honestly do that? Faye imagined her life without Charlie and discovered that she couldn't. It was amazing how eleven months with him seemed like an entire lifetime.  
The movie ended sadly and she turned the TV off, unsure of what to do. Her cup was empty, so she rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. Then she stood in the dark kitchen, wondering how she'd get to sleep again when she decided that a long run would do her some good.  
Running was a passion that Faye developed in her early teens. When she was fourteen, she discovered that she could run for miles and never stop and the feeling she got when she ran was the same feeling she got when she danced: the invincible feeling, the feeling that no one could control her as long as she kept going. She quickly and silently changed into a pair of long fleece pants and t-shirt with a sweatshirt of Charlie's over it. She pulled on her filthy tennis shoes, tied her hair up in a ponytail and left the apartment. She started out slow, running down Crescent Boulevard, her street. Then she gained speed on the next street, Pluto Circle. She ran the cul-de-sac and went back to her street, accelerating.  
Sweat broke through the barrier of her skin and bloomed into her t- shirt. She felt it under her arms and her breasts. It beaded on her forehead and licked her neck. The cold air dissolved it as quickly as it came. Her thoughts become a large blur and she feels detached from her body. She's running a race against herself. Which Faye will win is still being determined. She wondered if Charlie had woken up and found her not there and was freaking out and calling the cops. The thought melted as soon as it came and she couldn't think anymore. Faye drifted quietly past the flats, then she moved out onto the main road where a few cars lumbered past. She floated past the church, then the mosque and the high school. She ran past the grocery store where she and Charlie shopped, past her favorite clothing store, Red Ella.  
Then, as if something told her to do so, she turned around. Push beyond the wall, push beyond my limits. No limits. She ran almost naked, her skin slick with sweat. She ran like that all the way home.  
After showering and sliding into a clean slip, she crawled back into bed. She checked the clock right before she fell asleep. It read 4:32. She smiled in spite of herself and nestled closer to Charlie. His hand absently slid on the back of her neck and sent chills down her spine. She buried her face in his t-shirt and fell asleep like that, avoiding looking at the expansive white ceiling.  
  
~oo0oo~  
  
Charlie woke her up in the morning, when bright light filtered into the bedroom.  
"Faye, Faye, Faye," he was saying, gently shaking her.  
She opened her eyes. He smiled at her as he pushed back a lock of hair from his forehead. She looked at him, bleary-eyed.  
"What time is it?" she mumbled.  
"Almost eight-thirty," he replied. "Time for you to leave."  
"Arrrrrrrgh."  
She rolled over and gave herself a shock by rolling right off the bed.  
"Ow!" she gasped. The fall was enough to jolt her awake.  
"You alright?" Charlie asked her, helping her up.  
"Fine," she muttered angrily.  
He left for the kitchen as she dressed in a pair of grey fleece pants and a t-shirt with: DRACULA emblazoned on it in drippy red font. Right above the word were a pair of eyes with blood dripping out of them, like tears. Faye loved this shirt because her company had presented "Dracula" at Graham Hall on the Cambridge campus. A girl in the company had designed the shirt. She wore brand-new slip-on tennis shoes on her feet with thick red socks. She then walked through the kitchen, where Charlie was making coffee with his wand, and fished her leotard and tights out of the dryer. She folded them carefully into her dance bag, along with her pointe shoes, tap shoes and modern shoes.  
She dug another one of Charlie's sweatshirts out of his closet and pulled it over her head.  
When she dropped her bag on the couch in the living room, Charlie was holding up her dirty sneakers.  
"I found these in the bathroom," he told her. "Along with your dirty clothes."  
She braced herself.  
"Were you out running last night?" he asked her.  
She shrugged.  
"Faye, it's not safe," he told her. "It's not right. You need sleep; you're so busy practicing for Nutcracker that you don't get a good night's sleep."  
"Stop being my father," she snapped, flinging open the fridge. He had followed her into the kitchen, still holding her dirty shoes.  
"I'm not trying to be your father," he reasoned.  
"Well, you sure are acting like him," she flung back at him, digging out a little cup of yogurt.  
Charlie gave a sigh that she recognized. It was her sigh.  
"Don't sigh at me!" she snapped. "I didn't do anything wrong."  
"You could have been kidnapped," Charlie said.  
"You forget that I am a classically trained witch," Faye told him. "And I did have my wand with me last night. I could have defended myself."  
He didn't say anything so she continued. "It's not like you don't do dangerous stuff, for God's sake. You work with dragons, Charlie," she told him. "You have a huge burn on your arm and you had to have Muggle stitches when that Common Welsh Green got pissed at you."  
"But..."  
"No."  
He knew that it was futile because she wasn't listening anymore.  
"Bye," she told him, scooping up her back. She gave him a quick kiss.  
"Remember, I'll be at the Burrow when you get home," he said. "You can just Apparate there, right?"  
"Yeah," she said, nodding. She gave him another quick kiss and left.  
Faye needed a car to get back and forth from the dance studio because she thought that Apparating there was much too risky. What if someone saw her just appear out of thin air? She couldn't afford to have one of her dancers go crazy, especially before Nutcracker. She drove her little Yugo, named Ernie, back and forth from the dance studio and to stores and such. Other places (the Burrow, Charlie's work, Hermione's place, the Ministry) she used her magic.  
Faye's company was named after herself, Valentine Dance Theatre. The place where she held rehearsals was an old karate dojo. It was large and spacious and after spending a few days with her wand there, she turned the soft mats into hardwood floor, turned the gray paint into bright yellow paint, and even added an extra room in the back which they used as a kind of locker room. She added a barre and mirrors all around the rehearsal space. She paid to have workers install speakers for the music and build her a little office where she could get herself organized. Charlie had found the place almost a year ago and he'd helped rebuild but Faye really wanted Hermione to take care of it because her wandwork was flawless.  
Rehearsal started at nine-thirty. Faye let herself in the studio and changed into her leotard and tights in the office. Then she stretched and warmed up and waited for the actual company to arrive.  
They arrived in pairs. First Kelsey and Leslie, then Lauren and Nicole, Amanda and Rachel next, followed by Danielle and Holly. At the end, Katrina and Corrine arrived and right after them Kat and Lori. Then Faye's partner and co-artistic director, Jenna, arrived and they started rehearsal.  
"Can-can people, Jenna's gonna fit you for costumes in the back," Faye said. Kelsey, Nicole, Lori, Katrina and Rachel left, leaving seven people to learn the dance. Leslie, who was Sugarplum Fairy, was also doing Indian and African.  
Faye was consistently very proud of her company and her "girls", as she called them affectionately. They were fast learners and learned quickly how everything would work and where they would be.  
"Dance Kaleidoscope is doing this, too," Faye reminded them. "We'll rehearse with them next week to feel how everything goes."  
She looked over at them. They all looked extremely bored of her speech.  
"Okay," she said. "Uh...try African now."  
The African dance was a fury of movement and stomping and clapping but it looked and felt amazing with the music.  
At lunchtime, they took a break. Jenna and Faye drove them to a restaurant where they occupied two tables.  
"Have you heard from Julliard yet?" Lori asked, taking a dainty sip of her Coke.  
Faye's heart leapt to her throat. "No, I haven't," she said. "Not yet."  
"Ahh, what could be taking them so long?" Jenna asked.  
Faye shrugged. She wished they could get off this subject fast.  
They did because right at that moment a very cute boy walked in and the girls became silent and giggly and glancy.  
"You guys are making him uncomfortable," Faye told them. "Besides, I'm sure someone as hot as him already has a girlfriend."  
"You get some every night," Holly said, eyeing the boy and looking remarkably like a vulture. "He doesn't slouch; that means he's single."  
Faye laughed at this. "I do not get some every night," she said. Jenna and Kelsey raised their eyebrows. "Every other night, maybe. Tops."  
They laughed. Faye checked her clock and was stunned to find out that it was past one.  
"C'mon, girls, time to get back."  
They drove back. Faye joined them in their exercises and stretches, then rehearsed "Lagaan" before starting Can-Can, then moving on to Indian.  
Rehearsal ended at six. The girls staggered out, tired but smiling and saying "'bye" to Faye and Jenna.  
"Where're you going tonight?" Jenna asked, packing up her things.  
"Charlie's parents' place," Faye replied. "I can't cook today and neither can he. Besides, I haven't seen Molly in a while."  
"Alrighty," Jenna said. "Call me when Julliard calls, okay? See you tomorrow."  
Faye nodded and waved at her until she climbed into her car and drove off.  
She was exhausted and she knew it. She felt sleepy and hated to admit it, but Charlie was right. She made a promise to try chamomile tea tonight and sleep all night. No running. No dancing. Sleeping.  
Absently, she looked at the ceiling. It seemed to stare back at her. Why did ceilings suddenly become enemies? She wondered if they hated her for some strange reason. She shook her head. I really am going crazy. Angry ceilings? Yeah, that made sense.  
She left the studio around eight after cleaning and locking up and organizing some things. She answered some e-mails, surfed the Net for a while, then took her wand out of her dance bag and waved it, whispering, "Apparatio!" and she was at the Burrow.  
The first time she saw the Burrow was a year and a half ago. She thought it loud and boisterous and noisy, everything she didn't like. But after spending a week there, she began to love it. She loved the stomping and yelling of the grandkids and the noise of the kitchen and the weird ghoul who lived upstairs. She loved everything about it from the ugly green shed to the forest of a garden to the potato-like gnomes running around and all the chaos that was surrounded with love.  
She appeared in the foyer. Since Ron and Hermione's marriage Hermione had fixed the whole place up so the inside looked enormous. Faye tucked her wand in the pocket of Charlie's sweatshirt.  
"Hello!" she called over Hermione and Ron's crying baby, Ophelia. Hermione looked over, exasperated looking but still smiling.  
"Faye!" she said, giving Faye a kiss on each cheek. "It's lovely to see you! Charlie's upstairs with Harry. There seems to be a bundimun problem in the upstairs drawing room." She rolled her eyes.  
"Molly could smell it and absolutely insisted that the boys do it when she knows perfectly well..." Hermione trailed off.  
"I'll take Ophelia and you go handle it," Faye said.  
Hermione hesitated. Ophelia had stopped wailing. "Go on, 'Mione," she said. Hermione shrugged and passed her daughter to Faye, then went up the stairs to take care of the bundimuns.  
Charlie came down moments later, followed by Harry. They both brought in a disgusting rancid smell that made Ophelia whimper and Faye wrinkle her nose.  
"Ew," she said. "You smell like you've been cleaning French sewer systems."  
Charlie grinned. "Don't you love it?"  
Harry laughed. "Our Scouring Charms weren't powerful enough," he told Faye. "'Mione did it, thoough. She'll be down soon, I think."  
"You two could use a Scouring Charm on yourselves," Faye said. "Even Ophelia thinks so, don't you, Ophie?"  
The baby laughed and reached out her chubby arms for Harry. Harry laughed again and took out his wand. He muttered something and the smell slowly faded away. Faye handed Ophelia to Harry and sat down, trying to evade the ceiling that was coming down on her head.  
"Where's Molly?" she asked Charlie as he sat down too. It was almost a ritual that they talk about their day.  
"She's upstairs," Charlie said. "Helping Hermione, I think."  
"How was your day?" she asked him as Harry danced around the kitchen with his niece.  
"Delivered a Romanian Longhorn baby," he said. "It was interesting."  
"I'll bet," she said. "Healthy baby?"  
"It died," Charlie said, grimacing.  
"Ouch."  
They were silent for a moment. Then Charlie asked her the same question.  
"Oh, nothing," Faye said. "Taught Indian today, had Can-Can costume fittings, did Lagaan and African."  
"What about Julliard?"  
Why did everyone keep bringing Julliard up?  
She shook her head slowly. Harry stopped and listened, too. Ophelia was screeching and pulling his hair. "Nope, not yet," she said. "I think it's supposed to take a long time."  
They both nodded understandingly. Charlie didn't say a word, though.  
"Faye!" Molly's voice came out. "How are you, darling?"  
Faye got up and gave Molly a hug. She smelled like mother.  
"I'm tired," Faye finally admitted. "I didn't sleep well last night."  
Molly looked concerned. "Go upstairs into the guestroom, honey," she said. "Take a nap. I'll call you when dinner's ready."  
Faye nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Molly," she said. As she headed up the stairs, she heard Charlie yawn a very fake yawn and say,  
"Yeah, I think I'll go take a nap, too."  
Harry laughed. So did Molly.  
"Don't you keep her awake!" Molly yelled after Charlie as he ran after Faye. He caught up to her, tickling her from behind. She laughed and fell backwards right into his arms. He slung her over his shoulder as she protested.  
"Char-lieeeee." She dragged out his name.  
On the way up, Hermione met them. "Have fun!" she called, heading downstairs.  
"Very funny!" Faye yelled after her.  
The guest room was actually Faye and Charlie's room when they stayed over occasionally.  
Faye wrestled herself off of his shoulder and fell on the bed. He growled and chased her.  
"Just one kiss, that's all I ask!" he said, catching her again and kissing her mouth. She froze, then melted into the kiss. Even now she still felt weak when he kissed her.  
They crawled under the sheets together. She burrowed into his body. He smelled like boy. Her hands smoothed his shirt out. It was new, she hadn't seen it before.  
She fell asleep moments later.  
  
~oo0oo~  
  
Charlie woke her up again that evening, but this time he wasn't so gentle. She woke up to find him kissing her neck.  
"God, not while I'm sleeping," she said, pushing him away.  
He shrugged and climbed off the bed as she stood in front of the dresser and brushed her hair. It smelled stale, like sweat almost.  
"Dinnertime," Charlie said to her. She nodded, quickly pulled a braid together and followed Charlie downstairs.  
The kitchen was noisy as everyone crowded around the scrubbed wooden table. Faye greeted Ginny and Ron. Ginny smiled brightly at Faye. "Hey, been a long time," she said.  
"Two whole weeks," Faye replied sarcastically.  
Ginny laughed. "Still, it's a while."  
"Super busy," she said. "We're rehearsing for Nutcracker all the time."  
Ginny nodded. She was one of the few that understood about Faye's dancing. She understood that it wasn't just "dance classes." It was her life.  
"Where's Ophie?" Faye asked Hermione.  
Hermione indicated that her daughter was asleep. Faye nodded.  
Then she heard another voice calling from the foyer, "Molly, I'm home."  
Faye's heart lifted. Arthur Weasley had had what Muggles called a "heart attack" three months ago and since then, they all worried about him. He'd been admitted into a Muggle hospital in London and had to stay there for almost three weeks.  
Arthur walked in and everyone greeted him. His brown eyes rested on Faye and crinkled into a smile. "Hello, Faye," he said.  
"Hi," she said. "How're you feeling?"  
"Never been better."  
"I'm glad."  
"It's nice to have you back."  
"I never left!" Faye protested. "I just...I was busy."  
No one acknowledged that. They all sat down and Charlie grabbed her hand on one side and Ginny grabbed her left hand. They were saying grace.  
Faye was not a religious person but since Arthur's heart attack, they suddenly started praying a lot. Molly was seen praying to every known god there was. She had a "worship room" upstairs where she had a crucifix, a rosary, prayer mats, a small statue of Buddha, an even smaller statue of Shiva and several other worshipping methods. She prayed like a Christian, she prayed like a Muslim, she prayed like a Jew, a Buddhist, a Hindu. She prayed to every god she could discover. And she insisted on saying grace at the table, though Faye never knew who exactly they were asking to bless their food.  
They ate with the usual dinnertime conversation, though Faye basked in it. She didn't talk much except to tell Ginny how "Dracula" had gone. She ate the rice and the chicken and the casserole and the potatoes and listened to everyone talk around her. For some reason, she suddenly felt very left out. These people had been gathering to eat together since forever, it seemed. Faye felt like the intruder, the stranger, the Muggle career. She knew Molly didn't like the fact that she was a dancer; to Molly, any job that didn't involve magic was dangerous. She was always saying, "You could get hurt, darling, and we wouldn't know where you were..." etc., etc., etc.  
Dinner ended for Faye when Ophie woke up.  
"I'll get her," Faye offered standing up.  
"You really are an angel," Hermione said. Faye laughed and went up the stairs into the nursery that Molly kept for the grandchildren. Ophelia was standing up expectantly in the crib, her eyes large and brimming with tears.  
"Faaayeee," Ophie crooned. "Take me?" The hint of a question at the end of her commands made her irresistible and Faye picked her up and swung her around. The toddler shrieked with laughter.  
"Will you miss me when I leave?" Faye murmured to Ophelia, settling herself into a rocking chair.  
Ophelia gave Faye a toothy smile and snuggled into her chest. Faye hugged the child close, meshing their warmth together.  
"I'll be going away soon," Faye said. "You might never see me again."  
Bad Faye pointed out that she hadn't been accepted yet. She could be a real bitch sometimes.  
Ophelia whimpered suddenly. "Mommy..." she sniveled.  
"You want Mommy?"  
Ophie nodded pitifully. Faye got up, scooped the baby up and walked downstairs, where everyone had gone to the parlor.  
She settled Ophelia into her mother's lap and sat down next to Charlie, who was animatedly talking to Harry about Quidditch. She leaned over and kissed him right next to his ear. He finished mid-sentence and turned to her, smiled.  
"What's up?" he asked.  
"I think we should leave," she told him.  
"Why?" he asked.  
"You're the one who said I need more sleep," she said.  
"Mum offered to let us spend the night..." Charlie trailed off.  
"But my clothes..." She trailed off. She knew what he was thinking, and she knew what she was thinking and they were both thinking the same thing.  
"I think I'll go to bed," she said loudly, got up and left the room. She walked up the stairs and undressed, then climbed under the covers and waited for Charlie. She didn't wait long. He came bursting through the door, his shirt already off.  
He leaned over and kissed her, their tongues wrapped around each others. He eased himself on top of her but balanced himself so he wouldn't smother her. His hand cupped her right breast, his mouth filled with thick juices, the thought of an embarrassing eruption. He felt her moan in the very back of her throat.  
She needed air badly. Her lungs were burning. She pushed him away and gasped. Her lungs filled with air as he kissed her again.  
Now she was thinking differently, didn't want any right now. She didn't want to give him anything right now. She was stressed, duh, but it would be over soon. She needed to sleep, sleep, sleep...  
So she did. 


	2. Discarded

In the morning, Faye woke up in her own apartment in her own bed.  
  
Last night was very vague. She didn't remember coming home. What she did remember was Charlie's disappointed face, his dissatisfied sighs as he used Floo powder to get himself home. Faye Apparated to the studio, then drove her car home. She didn't remember the drive home at all. She did remember coming inside, the darkness of the living room as she dropped her dance bag off. She remembered Charlie's light breathing as she changed and crawled into bed next to him. He turned so his back was facing her so she knew that he was mad.  
  
The bed was empty when she woke up to the alarm. Charlie's side of the bed was made, the shower wasn't running, everything was silent except for the constant humming of the furnace.  
  
She stumbled out of bed and walked, wearing just her panties and bra, to the shower. She showered quickly, not even knowing she was showering. Was she having a hangover? Had Molly put some drugs in the fish last night? She felt useless, numb. Dance would clear that up.  
  
She didn't eat, just changed and dragged herself to Ernie.  
  
He wouldn't start.  
  
"Damn," she muttered, climbing out and opening the hood. She quickly checked over a few things, found the problem and repaired it without getting dirty.  
  
Ernie finally started. Faye turned the music down, then when she reached the highway turned it completely off. A double-decker bus rolled by her, the passengers looking like the most boring people alive. Faye wished they'd all wear orange pants just to make themselves more interesting.  
  
She rolled into the parking lot of the studio and found two of the girls, Kelsey and Leslie, along with Jenna already inside. (Jenna had a key also.)  
  
"Uh...just warm up..." Faye told them. "Tell everyone else to do the same."  
  
"Only Lori and Katrina can make it today, remember?" Leslie said. "School- day..."  
  
Oh, yeah.  
  
"Oh. I forgot."  
  
They looked at her strangely.  
  
"Okay...then let's start with warm-ups and stretches and then we'll work on our Dracula variation, okay? Les, you're doing Indian. Kels, you do Tango. Uh...Lori can do Can-Can and Katrina'll do African. I think that's all until lunch."  
  
Lori and Katrina showed up soon enough. They worked on the variation until lunchtime. Faye was demonstrating a line dance without the line when Jenna nudged her and jerked her head toward the glass.  
  
Charlie was standing there, holding an envelope.  
  
Faye's heart jumped to her throat. "Uh...work on that," she told them, looking at Charlie. "I'll be right back."  
  
She moved slowly, cold and slow. Very slow. He waited patiently as she stepped off and stood in front of him.  
  
"This came today," he told her.  
  
"But...you're supposed to be at work," she stuttered, her eyes fixed on the envelope.  
  
"I got sick," he told her. She looked up at him. He didn't look sick. She looked sick, she knew it.  
  
He handed her the envelope. The magic words were glowing at the corner of the envelope: "Julliard School of the Arts, Office of Admissions."  
  
After all this time, she wasn't ready. She didn't want to open the envelope, she didn't want to have anything happen. Her life was fine. Was there a need for change?  
  
It was a thin envelope.  
  
She opened it badly, a jagged opening that ripped through her name and address. The letter was brief: "We regret to inform you...thousands of qualified candidates...not a reflection on your abilities...many opportunities elsewhere...Sincerely..." Murder with a thin, sharp blade.  
  
The need to vomit vanished. Dead girls don't puke.  
  
The letter dropped from her hands, floated very gently to the floor. Charlie bent to pick it up, stood up straight, said something she couldn't hear. She looked up at him. His eyes were sorrowful. Suddenly, she knew that he knew that this would happen. Everything had gone wrong. She was a genius, a dancer, a performer. She belonged at Julliard, she belonged among her people.  
  
iIf he says he knew this would happen, I will die all over again./i  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."  
  
She heard that.  
  
He hugged her gently, buried her face in his chest. She didn't respond, didn't say anything. Her arms flopped limply at her sides. They swung uselessly. She couldn't feel, couldn't think. This was wrong.  
  
She felt the dancers' eyes on her and Charlie and wished she were invisible.  
  
Then she was four years old again and her father was hugging her and telling her that everything would be fine, even if it wouldn't. The reality didn't matter; what he said did.  
  
Faye's relationship with her parents had disintegrated a few years after she had left school. The whole story was complicated. Her mother didn't like her dancing so much; she didn't think it would provide a career. She was wrong, it had become a career. The last time Faye had seen her parents was two years ago.  
  
Now she wished that it was her father holding her instead of Charlie. She wished that she could cry and cry and not be called a baby. That was what she wished.  
  
Charlie spoke. "It's not the end of the world," he said. "You still have me and the company. You can still dance."  
  
iI want to dance on Broadway,/i she thought. iNot here. I want to wear my shoes on a huge stage, not in this little place./i  
  
She watched, in a kind of horrified trance, as he walked onto the rehearsal area and spoke in a low voice to Jenna. Jenna glanced over at Faye, her eyes very sad. The four lone dancers looked extremely confused, but they waved reassuringly at Faye. Faye couldn't wave back. She wanted to break something.  
  
Then Jenna came out and gave Faye a soft hug. "I'm sorry."  
  
Faye felt those words in her ears, but didn't understand what they meant. iSorry, I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry, sorry, sorry sorry.../i What did it all mean? Her head hurt.  
  
"Let's go," Charlie whispered to her. "Jenna can take your place for today."  
  
Faye nodded numbly. She walked, almost ran, to the office and grabbed her bag. It dropped as she made to sling it over her shoulder. Everything came crashing out. Everything lay on the floor like a tragic accident. She grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from falling.  
  
iIt was a sure thing. I was going to make it./i  
  
Charlie came in and put her things into the bag slowly. Then he pulled Faye along after him. She followed listlessly into her car. He drove home the Muggle way, not bothering to use magic. She could feel his glances at her, but she didn't return them. She sat ramrod straight, using her perfect posture to her defense, looking straight through the windshield. She didn't even turn her head when they saw a car on fire on the causeway. Charlie took the exit to the apartment. She counted to thirty-seven before they pulled into her reserved parking space. She sat numbly, hoping to freeze in the cold. Charlie didn't seem to want to agree because he picked her up and settled her in their bed. He was so gentle, she had to notice. He carefully took off her dance shoes and put them in her dance bag. He tucked her hair behind her ears, pulled the blanket up over her. She smiled lightly at him and he nodded at her. Her fingers came up and touched his cheek briefly. He took her hand and placed it down on the bed.  
  
"Sleep," he told her. "You need to sleep."  
  
She wanted to leap up and jump out the window. That's what she needed. She also needed comfort food. She wanted something warm and mushy, warm and buttery, warm and filling. Something warm.  
  
"Lay with me," she pleaded with him.  
  
He looked sorrowful. "Faye..."  
  
"Please."  
  
He crawled in next to her. She felt his warmth as she scooted closer to him. He smelled like something fetid but comforting, like sweat or hair. The smell was on his neck and shirt and hands. She felt him smooth her hair down. The hair crackled with static electricity.  
  
He didn't say anything. That was what she loved about him. He didn't talk when he knew he shouldn't talk. He was sensitive about certain things like this. When Faye had first met him, at a Hearing at the Ministry, she had thought that he was a vain presumptuous jerk like most of the guys she had ever dated. It turned out he wasn't. That was why they had moved in together after talking about it for a while. Charlie understood about her Muggle career and her relationship with her parents. He understood that she needed to be taken care of sometimes, he understood that she'd take care of you if you needed it. He understood about her lifestyle, the no-TV-almost- vegan lifestyle. He understood that she had mood swings.  
  
What did she understand about him? She understood that he needed to have someone to take care of, she understood that he needed to be outside to be happy. She understood about his family and what went on with Percy. She understood about his thrill issues and why he had the career he did. She understood that he enjoyed danger.  
  
A few minutes later, while she was half-asleep, he got up and went into the living room. If there was one thing Charlie was sensitive to, it was Faye's emotion. He hated it when she cried in front of him but he took care of her because he knew she needed it. He also knew that she'd resent him if he didn't.  
  
He sat down in front of the TV that Faye insisted they have. Today, she had said, it looked very strange if someone didn't own a television. Charlie had agreed that they couldn't bring any large attention to themselves. Several of their paintings in the guest bedroom talked and the Degas portrait in the hall had the most insolent ballerinas he had ever met.  
  
He flipped channels slowly, letting himself slowly see what was on each channel. There was nothing. A Lifetime movie, a talkshow, a how-to show. He paused at a likely program, apparently what was an adult cartoon. He watched it without much interest. In the back of his head, he was wondering about Julliard.  
  
"Will she leave me?" he asked himself aloud. It was something that bothered him all the time, ever since she had returned from her trip. Her face was flushed as she told him what she had done. Her excitement didn't excite him but he acted excited because he didn't want to worry her. He didn't want her to worry about him. He had lived a long time without her; he could do it again.  
  
If she left him, the flat would be filthy. It would have no fresh scent, no rude ballerinas. He wouldn't find her panties on the bathroom rug. He'd wear dirty clothes all the time, he'd eat TV dinners without a TV. He'd sleep in a cold bed with grimy sheets and disgusting ideas in his head. Faye had cleaned him, if that's what you wanted to say. She did his laundry, cooked pretty often, had sex with him. She gave him a lot.  
  
He turned the TV off and searched through the phone book for a decent delivery place. He found some Chinese and ordered that. The order took about forty-five minutes to deliver. Charlie paid with a fistful of money. The man didn't even bother to count it; he took it gratefully and left.  
  
Charlie woke Faye up gently. "Hey..." He shook her elbow gently. Her eyes flew open. "I ordered Chinese if you want some."  
  
She nodded. "Um...yeah...I'll be there in a minute."  
  
He nodded and left so she could change.  
  
She pulled on one of his sweatshirts and pajama pants. Her reflection in the mirror looked terrible. She wondered if Charlie felt repulsed when he saw her.  
  
The smell of the food made her sick to her stomach.  
  
"I think I'll shower," she told him. He nodded, eating shrimp out of a white carton.  
  
She turned on the hot shower and let the steamy water fall over her back.  
  
She reviewed:  
  
iStep 1. Hypothesis- I am special. I am going to be the next Martha Graham. I will change the dance world.  
Step 2. Procedure- Acquire primary and secondary dance skills. Join a dance company. Start a dance company. Dance in national shows. Maintain a crushing curricular load.  
Step 3. Results-failure  
Step 4. Retrace steps. Procedure flawless.  
Step 5. Conclusion-hypothesis is incorrect. I am a loser./i  
  
So simple.  
  
She swallowed. That was when she heard Charlie knocking.  
  
"Faye!" he was yelling. That was all she could hear. She couldn't understand what he was saying. Was he speaking German? That's what it sounded like.  
  
He knocked again. She ignored him. Instead, she picked up the razor and grabbed the bar of soap. She lathered up her leg and shaved it without one nick. Then she shaved her other leg. Charlie was still saying something. She acted like she didn't hear him. She shaved under her arms, then rinsed off. She wrapped her towel around her and unlocked the door. Charlie came bursting in.  
  
"Faye!" he said, sounding slightly angry. "Why didn't you answer me?"  
  
"I didn't hear you," she lied.  
  
He knew she was lying. He ignored that factor. "Faye...your mum just called..."  
  
Faye stared at him. "My imom/i just called? You're shitting me."  
  
"I'm not," he told her. "She asked me if she could talk to you."  
  
"Why would she want to do that?" Faye asked him. "She thinks you're a Devil- child and I'm your big whore."  
  
Charlie shook his head. "Your dad just collapsed right now. They think he might have an aneurysm."  
  
Faye nodded. "Riiiight. What'd she really want?"  
  
He looked dead serious and it scared her. "I'm not joking."  
  
"I know you're not."  
  
She stood stock still, water dripping from her hair onto her back and then soaking into the towel. Charlie looked at her carefully. She looked like she'd just about had enough. Everything was falling apart on her.  
  
"Where is he right now?" she asked him.  
  
"The Muggle hospital where Dad was during his recovery," Charlie said. "Your mum said in room 303. She wants you to visit."  
  
Faye shrugged. "But she hates me."  
  
"She's your mother."  
  
"That doesn't stop her from hating me."  
  
"It does."  
  
Faye sighed. "Let me get dressed," she said. "I'll be right out."  
  
"Do you want to Apparate?" he asked.  
  
"That'd be fine," Faye said. "But where?"  
  
"Uh...in the restrooms of that restaurant in the lobby..."  
  
"Fine. Lemme change."  
  
He left. She walked to the bedroom and wore a long dark blue skirt and bright yellow tank top. Her father always loved intense colors. She pulled a white zip-up hoodie over it and wore flip-flops, even though she knew it would be freezing outside.  
  
Charlie raised his eyebrows at her bright clothing but didn't say anything.  
  
"I'll go first," she said. She waved her wand and hissed, "iApparatio!/i" She found herself in a stall in a fragrant restroom. The smell was like roses or something strange. It choked her. Charlie should have Apparated by now. Faye tucked her wand into her purse and stepped out. The restroom was deserted. She saw herself in the mirror. Her hair was still wet. She waved her wand at it and it was perfectly dry and straight.  
  
She found Charlie waiting for her.  
  
"Let's go," he said. She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand. It would feel very strange seeing her parents after two years...  
  
Room 303 was on the third floor. It was the Intensive Care Unit. Charlie's grip tightened on her hand as the woman at the front desk gave them passes that allowed them to get past the security doors.  
  
Faye thanked her softly and they took the elevator up.  
  
"I hate the smell of hospitals," she told Charlie. "They smell so clean it makes me ill."  
  
He smiled at her and squeezed her arm lightly. She felt suddenly very nervous.  
  
The woman at the desk at the ICU smiled at them and asked to see their passes.  
  
"She's been waiting for you," she told Faye.  
  
Faye nodded. "How long have they been in here?"  
  
"About forty-five minutes."  
  
Faye exchanged scared glances with Charlie. He nodded assuringly.  
  
The room came way too fast.  
  
"Do you want me to stay out here?" he asked her.  
  
"No, come with me," she pleaded.  
  
"But your mom-"  
  
"She doesn't matter right now."  
  
Charlie shrugged and walked into the room with Faye. The scene, Faye knew, would remained burned into her eyes forever. Her father's hair had gotten shockingly white. Her mother's face had become severely creased. Her father was lying in bed with tubes all over him, his eyes open but completely vacant. Her mother was seated in a chair next to the bed.  
  
Faye didn't know why she said what she said next. "Mommy?"  
  
Her mother turned around. Her eyes were completely red. "Faye..." She practically breathed it.  
  
They stood for what seemed like forever looking at each other.  
  
"Oh, Faye," her mother said, smiling slightly. "You've changed."  
  
Faye touched her hair. She knew it was much shorter and neater.  
  
"You too," Faye said helpfully. She reached behind herself and pulled Charlie front by his jacket. "You remember Charlie?"  
  
Of course she remembered Charlie. That was the last thing they had fought about. Charlie knew that. Faye's mother smiled. "Yes," she said. "It's good to see you."  
  
"You too," Charlie offered, though at the moment it was terrible for them to see each other.  
  
Faye's eyes drifted over to the hospital bed. Her father's vacant eyes were staring at her. She felt a lump in her throat. "Dad..." she croaked.  
  
"You don't have to do this," Charlie whispered to her.  
  
"Yes, I do," she replied.  
  
Her mother was watching her intently. "He said your name a while ago," she said. "That's when I called."  
  
Faye felt terribly guilty.  
  
Charlie gently steered to the bedside. Faye looked down in disgust and mourning and horrifying enthrallment. This was her father.  
  
His eyes were still empty, but they had followed her. They moved to Charlie to Faye and back to Charlie and then finally rested on Faye. His mouth moved and Faye saw it. She bit her lip and tasted blood. She couldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. Not now, not in front of her mother and Charlie and a strange nurse who had come to see progress. It turned out that there was none.  
  
"Faye..." This escaped out of her father's throat. "Faye."  
  
Faye felt tears well up in her eyes. "Hi, Daddy," she told him. "Hi."  
  
Charlie squeezed her shoulder in a comforting way.  
  
"The nurse encouraged me to talk to him," her mother said helpfully from behind. Faye nodded. She looked at her father and saw that he had closed his eyes. Had he been waiting for her to come?  
  
"Talk to him," Charlie encouraged her from behind.  
  
"No," she said, surprised by how firm and strong her voice was. "No. He can't understand me anyway. We're leaving. In a cab."  
  
"But-"  
  
"We're leaving," she ordered.  
  
Faye walked out of the hospital room, ignoring her mother completely. Charlie ran after her after a few apologetic words to her mother.  
  
"That's was igreat/i of you," Charlie said sarcastically. "They're your parents, Faye."  
  
"Yes, they are," she replied. "And he's dying. So just leave me alone, okay?"  
  
They hailed a cab outside and drove home in silence. Their cab driver was very conversational, but he got the hint when Faye politely asked him to shut up. 


End file.
